Hair below her waist, a pair of eyes prettier than i’ll ever admit. Cotton ball cheeks that go red with the quickest pull or the slightest temperature rise. She always looks like shes stuffed 2 little cupcakes in her mouth. Brows that furrow quite often in a day and a thin line for lips. The rest shes just like me, just a 4 years younger. We look like we belong to the same family, she just seems better fed.. if you know what i mean.

I never gave her credit for anything. and I’ve done all the conventional elder sibling stuff. When she was young, very young, I told her she was picked up from a nursing home. And she was surprisingly calm for her age. Until  i showed her “photographic proof”. Then she started slamming albums, cursing (innocently) at me. Her eyes become angry when she’s mad. And she’s mad when shes worried. She always buys my lies. Anger usually leads to tattle taling to mom. But she wouldn’t smirk, instead she starts crying out loud. I found out very recently that she did that because even  though she wanted to know shes not picked up from some baby store she didn’t want me to suffer much.

Over the years she’s been my biggest enemy. When i started teenage-lies, she was the third parent I had to deal with. Sure we played together. She would be the servant while i was the princess , she was Ron and i was always Harry. Her brows clearly showed she wasn’t pleased but she didn’t mind as long as we were playing.  If I won she would throw the game and storm out. But she’d come back, very soon.

And its not even because she needed my company. If I snuck in on her I found her dressing up with whatever assortment she could find out of me and my mothers wardrobe. She’d play with her barbie, arrange little tea parties, make wealth out of waste, keep tapping keys irritatingly on the keyboard and make some annoying discovery.

Just normal kid stuff I guess and I found out she had grown up a little too late. I’d made a card for my friend and  her boyfriend and left it home! Instead of worrying about getting caught I decided I’d tell her some stupid story and get her to hide it. She did and i told her it was just a prank. I came home and she gave me an incredulous look, ” you think I’m that stupid do you?”. and started laughing like the LOL meme.

Cut to scene 2

I was telling her some story about my class of cursing and swearing guys. I said”  You won’t get the details, you don’t know that stuff.”
“Try me”, she said innocently.

I smirked and thought I’d go slow, just the basics.

“You know whats gay?”, I asked. “Yes, duh!”, she said and I gaped at her.really ? My stupid little tattle tale  sister knew this! I tested a few other topics and she seemed well aware. Too aware!  I asked her if she knew any curses and it almost gave me a stroke to see the ones she offered.

But I had  found a new friend I knew it. She looks out for me when im out late. Calms things down when I’m about to get it from mom dad. Eats the food i leave on my plate in exchange for food parcels (donuts mostly). She photoshops,she dances, she writes and she has ambitions more than me. She’s inventive, she’s bad temepered, she blares more than anyone in my house. She starts crying when shes tensed, she cannot eat a night before the exam. She goes mad when somethings wrong, she talks beyond reason. She’s dumb, she’s fun, she sends memes when I’m low. She’s hardly the best but good to have anyway

Things that make me sad (not what you expect)


1.  Somethings wrong with my cheese

sadness level : 100

Be it the not-so-generous amounts on my pizza, the wrong seasoning with my homemade one or a tear in the slice.

2.  Some favorite song goes on just when I’ve parked

sadness level: 200

every single time! the whole journey i torture my ears and as soon as i park …..

3. Donut is dry

sadness level: too high

enough said?

4. Left the light on

sadness level:9000

Winter night.  finally in my bed. get all warm and toasty. Peaceful sleep, i’m on my way….. and i forgot to turn off the lights.(i’ll burst into tears the next time)

5. Got homework. no music

sadness level: high enough to post-pone doing it.

6. Battery low

sadness level: not known to man

Its like slow torture ,watching the phone die (heavens throw me a charger please)

7. You must be a member to download the bla bla

sadness level : high

why do they appear in the free download result page in the first place if they don’t want us there. yes i’m sad but no, i will not login or complete a survey!

8. Brought a new a bar of soap. didn’t get it in the shower

sadness level:900

it’s lying somewhere unwrapped and smelling good while i scrub myself with scraps.


A large white space. I enter and there’s an endless collection of books. All pre-arranged AND re-arrangeable. According to genres, dates, authors, hell there’s even a stack of your favorites. What’s more? The seating is an awesome true sci-fi movie type adjustable one. Choose your environment!  Bedroom setting ? Garden ? Couch? Bathroom setting? My library has got it all.

Sounds cool. Doesn’t it?

The best part : it’s on my desktop!

For all those of us who have got to work in a budget, have little access to a library (it’s possible) and a huge reading bug, e-books are like god-sends. It’s incredibly convenient taking my ipad/desktop full of books and carrying it everywhere. Its comforting to know that no matter what level of boredom I reach, I’m a click away from my precious half read (and bookmarked) novel. I’ve been carrying so many of them but not once has my bag felt heavy. You just need a decent site for download.

There’s no end to the number of books you can read online. Buying them all is not the best option for everybody. Its as convenient as can be!

And yet, those old classics and the lesser knowns are found in libraries alone. The feeling I get when I buy a book! The smell of paper  and the shuffling of pages. The effort I put in not to fold the spine and falling asleep with the book on me. No kindle will bring that.

Despite the cool library, I take pride in the little collection of books I have, neatly piled on the side table. The bookstore is my personal Vegas! What girls feel in malls I feel in my city’s book store. And no matter the amount of love I have for my ipad, My personal library! That’s the dream.

We 90’s people will never give up on paper will we?

ebooks vs printed books

Another love story?


The door slammed shut. I saw my best friend as she walked quickly towards her boyfriend. He was waiting for her leaning against his car, door open, so I caught a glimpse of the two neatly wrapped gifts on the seat. As she reached him his smile widened and he immediately took her in his arms for a quick hug. Anybody could tell they loved each other, the kinds you read in books. As I drove away I felt happy, the kind you feel while watching a romantic movie.

I had seen my friend from the very beginning of her relationship. She’d share all that he said to her and I saw her falling in love, the way he cared for her, the way she felt when he was around, the way she cried when he wasn’t, the way he looked when she was unwell and the way they never let go of each other at parties. All my friends were committed and the couples and I usually hung out together. Just not some obvious days.

My favourite song played from the car speakers and I was humming it instinctively. Eventually I started hearing the words carefully and heaviness started percolating my happy feeling. Involuntarily I started thinking about the guy I used to like and the time we had gone out to eat alone and the way I felt. I stopped at the red light and looked around.

Everybody seemed to be going in pairs today. To my left a girl was snuggling up to her man on a bike. An elderly couple were sitting calmly in the car in front. I looked across the road and a man was going person to person carrying a bunch of red heart shaped balloons. Atleast somebody is making something of this day alone I thought to myself.

I reached home and turned on the T.V. I was tired and needed to sleep but my mind would never let me in this state. I would end up in bed thinking my way into sadness. I needed to distract myself. this day of the year was the worst. I flicked channels but it was all I could do to resist watching all he mushy stuff that was on and that I liked. I finally gave up and settled for watching the love story.

The lady on the screen was looking at a man who was clearly torn. A tear trickled down his cheek and suddenly he fell on his knees and hugged her waist. ”don’t leave me “, he said and started sobbing against his stomach. The girl reached down to him and gave him a watery smile and leaned in closer. She held his face in both her hands and I realised I had tears in my eyes already. The heaviness was upto the brim now. I looked to my side for the box of tissues angry at myself that’s when I saw him.

Leaning over the window of the opposite building, one hand on the pink curtains, he still seemed 6 feet tall. Wheatish complexion and eyes staring right back into mine. I became immediately self-conscious and looked to the side at my curtains. As I tried to think of how to inconspicuously draw them I started thinking others things too. The first thing I saw on his face was the scar under his left eye so strikingly similar to the scar my crush had. But mostly I was thinking about the look on his face.

I was confident a guy wouldn’t like me , I wasn’t that special looking and in my class I was one of the guys ,yet those eyes had a flash of something I didn’t believe but wanted to so badly. I got up slowly much more aware of him looking from the other side of the small lane and as I was about to close the curtains avoiding eye contact I heard him call “hi” .my heart leapt up before I could raise my eyes. Considering for some time to avoid losing the moment I said “hello” and I could hear the nervousness in my own voice.

He smiled a little and looked a little taken aback to see me. I realised then I had been crying and he probably saw traces of that. But before I could wipe them off he said “I can make anybody laugh you know. Can I come over?” It was my turn to be taken aback. I started to question his intentions and the kindness his eyes just showed. My girl instincts screamed at me to say no and I appraised him. He looked decent and the way he asked hinted genuine concern. Perhaps it was the state I was in but I’d already decided. So I gave him a tentative.He smiled and disappeared.

I turned back wondering and tossing a million things in my head, a part of my mind also worried about the way me and my room looked. But before I could grab anything the doorbell rang. I ran to open the door with a strange excitement and he was there the kind smile on his face and a small box in his hand. The girl next door was entering her house too and she turned to look at me. I worried what she would think of this good looking stranger at my door but she didn’t seem to care. How strange.I didn’t say anything but stepped to one side to let himknow he could come in. He took a step and offered me the red box. I took it, and looked at it not sure what to do. “Go on “, he said encouragingly’. So I opened it. It was empty. I looked at him and he took the lid from my left hand slightly making the slightest contact,placed it back on the box said, “It’s your smile,you’ll get It before I leave”.

I felt like smiling already but instead I found tears welling up again. It was all I could to fight them back and he probably saw it too because he raised his hands hesitantly to comfort me. I closed my eyes and I felt the stream trickle down my cheeks. And then I felt warm fingers brushing them away slowly. This should not happen I thought, yet I wanted them to linger. But they disappeared as soon as my eyes opened. He was looking at me and I was comforted at once. “Would you like to have lunch with me?”I asked nervously. “Of course!” he said, “what have you got?” It turned out I didn’t have anything so we ordered a pizza which he seemed to like as much as I did.

We sat on the table and started talking about nothing in particular. But I felt like I was telling him more than I ever told anybody. He looked like he really understood what I had to say. I told him all that I had built up inside that day. He didn’t speak much, but his face encouraged me to let it all out. Once he interrupted me to say, “its ok, I like the way you keep touching your hair”something I thought of as my stupid habit. His expression made me believe he really cared. Or maybe it was my desperation, we’d just met after all.We moved to the couch and I was much better now. I even felt elated. When I was done he just took my hand carefully, in a way that made you want to hold on and said “there is a lot out there, life is awesome! Someone like you will get what you want soon enough”. Those simple words made me very happy or maybe it was just his presence.

He turned on the T.V and put on a car show I happened to like as well. I was having an inner battle of my own and as if he could hear it all, he placed his hand on one side of my head nudging it gently against his shoulder. I leaned eagerly and it felt the safest place on earth. I could see now how my friends forgot everything when they’re with their boyfriends. It was easy to get lost with someone you felt at home. He was funny too. He constantly commented on the show and though I’d already seen it before with my college friends, I felt like a giggly teenage girl.

My mind was telling me this was weird but a larger part of me was determined to believe something else.  Sometimes without seeming to think about it, he just stroked my hair slowly. I felt a smile spreading across my lips.He saw it too and took the box out. “Told you didn’t I ?”, he said and I smiled looking up now. I sensed he would be wanting to leave now so I got up and he followed. We went down the stairs and stopped in the lane.

I couldn’t believe what had just happened and product of my lifetime of thinking I thought this was probably it and I was thinking too much on it. I heard the sound of the approaching subway and looked around to see people walking in the narrow lane. It irked me to see that they acknowledged me standing there but not the man I was standing with.

Looking at an old couple walking together I gave up to my heart and wrapped my arms around him. He closed his arms around me too and my heart gave a leap. I didn’t want to let go but I was thinking about the people around. I checked to see if they were looking but they didn’t seem to be annoyed just questioning. I couldn’t delve on that longer than that I was much too happy and warm in his embrace. When I finally let go “see you” , he said and I smiled in a grateful sort of way and watched him cross the lane.

The subway crossed in the same second and I turned back to go back home. An old lady from the opposite building smiled through the pink curtains.

Things you see while driving



Guys with peripheral visions

So they think they’re the only ones who have been blessed with the gift of seeing out of the corner of their eye. See them at roundabouts, turns, cutting lanes, hogging parking spots and pretty much everywhere. You want to go first, I get it! Don’t pretend like you don’t care my car is too close. Cause it is. Also I already saw your eye ball roll right to the corner and I know that you know hat I hit the brakes.




See them flying across roads, stop signs, red lights, dividers or (on a good day) even air. Little do the suspect that we I’m not wooed by their ninja-ing. I just hit the brakes so I don’t run one over or have to explain a car wreck back home.



Good guy old people

Awesome to encounter on crossings, sucks to be stuck behind one. They always stop and let you go. God bless them!



Bad ‘ASS’ / Honkers

And spread evenly throughout the world roads are the “bad ass” drivers. The ones with the questionably modified cars, taxi drivers, and things like “dad’s gift” or “I love f1” on their rides. Overtakes my car and hits the brakes in my cars face!  Flies right past at a 1234 kmph, stops at a red light 200 m away! Zigzags his way through a jam honks at a truck to give way! Genius.




Bad asses who’ve earned it!

Then God said let there be awesome cars! The ones that make sounds that make you rott weiler-ish. Brace myself a sports car is coming. You can overtake, speed, kill all you like because you my friend have an awesome car. Like a boss!

Save the best for last


I guess you could call me a bbigot . I really and obstinately believe that the students sitting on the last bench of any academic institution are the gems of that class, untapped resources. Nobody ever realizes their true potential.

The last bench is a colorful world. There is always one misfit. Somebody who has been either forced by friends or has been insulted by them. That is the only reason why he/she is there. Somebody who really wanted to hear what his teacher has to say. Of course there are others who want to study even if they’re as far away from the teacher as possible. But they are limited in number. Like trees in the Sahara. .

The rest of the population was born funny. Humour and wit are innate qualities. They share a mutual understanding with the teacher. While they like to ignore the dull littany of lectures, the teacher ignores them based on, what I call, The Theory of EBBING, which says that intellect falls with one’s bench number.  While somebody is delivering speeches about how he/she did this and how he/she will do that, some people engage in the fulfilling task of mocking everybody. The rest believe in productivity.

The artists are all at the last, substituting notes for doodles that can shame google. Some show amazing talent every now and then with a comment for everything and everybody in a class. Laughter is the only acknowledgement they seek. Gamers, philosophers, bird watchers, even musicians-the last bench has it all.

All this is brought to an end by the teacher’s face reading abilities. It is very important to work on your expressions for this reason. Answering a question you didn’t even hear in the first place is an art. From giving your best innocent expression, to looking so deep in thought that might make someone believe you are working on the laws of nature. You deserve the place if you can read the answer of people in front of you from immense distances and under constant scrutiny if you can produce an answer that is correct.

So it’s a LIE if somebody says back benchers are the worst of the lot and do nothing but while away time. A lie, a false accusation. Trust somebody who has been on the first bench for too many years. You will have the time of your life sitting on the last bench.GET UP AND GO BACK!